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I remember my Mother.
I remember our love.
I remember her braiding my hair, and laying my clothes
out nightly for the next school day.
I remember my Mother singing, and dancing to love songs
playing on the radio, while preparing our family dinner.
I remember lip synching for her every weekend, along with
my brothers and sister to songs playing on her eight-track
I remember Our shopping sprees. Weekly for clothes; monthly
I remember her stories about her childhood, and the merriment
in her eyes as she told them.
I remember our move.
I remember the pasta, potatoes, split-in-half franks, frozen fish
sticks, and cleaning up before dark.
I remember the Indicent.
I remember the last time my Mother cried, "What happened to
I remember a time when my Mother would have never blamed me
for my siblings' faults ....
I remember my Mother making my last year of high school the worst
year of my life.
I remember screaming, " I hate you Mommy, you treat me like dirt!"
I remember her later saying, "... I ... love you ... your father and I ...
I remember our tears, and our pain about the Incident, and our
silent acknowledgment that things would never be the same.
This poem was written, as a homework assignment in a creative writing class, twenty years ago.
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Kindles on Sale:
Books on Mothers' and Daughters' Relationships:
- FOR THE LOVE OF HER ... CHILD
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N.e. Wright's Other Hubs:
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